Becoming The Loudest Cheerleader Of Your Story

​There’s a scene early in Jerry Maguire where Jerry has a crisis of conscience and writes a 25-page mission statement titled, “The Things We Think and Do Not Say: The Future of Our Business.”

Jerry thinks his colleagues will celebrate him for his honesty and boldness.

They do not.

In a dramatic (and forced) quitting scene, Jerry bags up the office goldfish and proclaims -like he’s accepting an Oscar -“I am starting something new and the fish are coming with me. If anyone else wants to come with me, this moment will be the moment of something real, and fun, and inspiring in this God-forsaken business and we will do it together. Who's coming with me?"

His colleagues stare at him like he’s lost his mind (in fairness, the audience probably agrees).

No one follows. No one except the meek and mild Dorothy Boyd.

The scene ends as these two lost souls walk out of the office together.

On one hand, you’re left thinking, What are you doing, Jerry? Especially those of us who’ve made emotional decisions that later proved to be FOOLISH emotional decisions.

But on the other hand, those of us who’ve been the foolish underdog can’t help but root for them.

Mike Birbiglia once said, “I find that if I write in my journal what I'm saddest about or angriest about, I can start to see my life as a story. And if you start to see your life as a story, you can start to encourage the main character to make better decisions.”

I think that’s great advice.

To start seeing ourselves as characters in a story.

Because so many movie scenes pull us from our seats - anxious and relieved, saddened and hopeful - because we care about the choices the characters make.

We leave the theater totally invested in their outcomes.

But how often do we look at the story of our life with that same intensity? That same hope? That same cheering-them-on spirit?

How often do we pause long enough to celebrate our own boldness - or ask ourselves, what are you doing?

Yes, Jerry Maguire is just a movie. But it resonated because parts of that story are tangled up in our own.

Maybe we turn to movies for escape a little too often when they instead could be reminders to lean back into the plotlines of our own stories.

In the end, Jerry does rebuild his career. And Jerry and Dorothy discover they “complete” each other. It’s a happy ending.

We all deserve that kind of ending.

And no one should be a bigger cheerleader for that happy ending than you.

It’s easy to say to a screen, I’ll go with you, Jerry.

But are you willing to go with yourself?

I hope you are.

I’m cheering you on.